


Shall We Dance

by Phantocat



Series: Shall We Dance/Давайте потанцуем [2]
Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Welcome to Sanditon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28431162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantocat/pseuds/Phantocat
Summary: Romantic story of modern Sidney and Charlotte in the rhythm of the Viennese waltzThis story is written in Russian and translated into English
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker
Series: Shall We Dance/Давайте потанцуем [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082456
Comments: 59
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

On the last working day of August, Charlotte Haywood, a junior financial analyst, stayed up late as usual. Hyper-responsiveness and not the desire to drag a pile of unverified numbers into the new month chained her to the desktop. 

The monitor made her eyes water, and the endless tables on the screen were depressing. She reached for her mug and took an empty sip: the coffee was gone. A tired sigh echoed through the empty office. 

The tense silence of the evening office and the dim lighting in other sectors of the open space seemed to reproach Charlotte for being too diligent: all her colleagues had long since fled to their homes and bars. Friday. 11 PM. A little more and she will again be forced to listen to a lot of new things about herself from the security post. It was time to get ready to go home. 

Suddenly, her cell phone vibrated on the table, making her jump in surprise. Mother… I wanted to avoid this conversation, but I didn't have much choice: pick up the phone now or listen to the overture from "The Phantom of the Opera" resounding through the empty room. And Mrs. Heywood, believe me, could be persistent and patient. 

"Yes, Mother," Charlotte said wearily. "No, it's fine. Just tired." Charlotte leaned her forehead on her hand. 

Mrs. Heywood's 10-minute monologue was punctuated only occasionally by Charlotte's tired "yes," "no," and "uh-huh." She had heard this speech too many times! Yes, she shouldn't work so hard. Yeah, she needs to find a boyfriend. And no, she wasn't coming over for the weekend to meet Mrs. Maudsley's nephew, who had suddenly decided to spend his vacation in a remote village. Yes, she understands that her mother wants to babysit her grandchildren, and that Charlotte as the eldest daughter had special hopes ... Yes, life is passing by, and she is still not married. And yes, at her age, her mother was already raising Charlotte and was pregnant with her sister Alison…

Not intending to get into a fight, Charlotte wearily agreed with her mother, a little angry that she had to listen to this speech over and over again. And promising that she would be leaving the office by now, she ended the call with a dread in her heart. 

Mother's words repeated the same thing over and over again, but in fact she was right: Charlotte needed a change.

Young Charlotte Heywood counted her achievements and achievements 4 times a year: at Christmas, in the New Year, on her birthday and on the eve of the beginning of the school season. Although she had long since graduated from both high school and university, the habit of starting the new year by setting goals still remained with her. And when she looked at the calendar, she realized that the next deadline for making promises to herself was approaching. 

A year has passed, and nothing has changed in her life. She still worked as a junior financial analyst, still stayed up late, and was still single. Her desk had been overgrown with several mugs of tea and coffee and sticky notes during the day, but there were no personal, individual features on her desk, as if she did not exist and did not live outside.

"I should at least have a cactus" she thought, because only a cactus can survive on her desk if she goes back to work and forgets to water the flower.

Charlotte wearily scooped up all the dirty mugs and went to the kitchen to wash them. On the way back, she walked slowly to the panoramic window and sighed. She loved London. And when, after graduating from university, the question arose where to settle, she had no doubt that she would go to London. And now, a year has passed since the move, and she saw the city no more often than during her studies, when she occasionally went out with friends and a friendly company to local bars, clubs, theaters and parks. So many favorite places were nearby, but they all eluded her because of fatigue. And now, looking at the London Eye, Charlotte knew that it was time to change something.

She hurriedly packed her things, turned off the monitor, and left the building. Well, it's Friday. She's not going home. And he'll arrange a date with ... London. And quickly hailing a taxi, she headed for the ferris wheel. 

As she got out of the taxi, she looked around. The city shone with lights, and the fresh air from the river cleared his thoughts. It was nice to be in the center of things and feel the life around you. It was nice to feel free and alive. It had been a long time since she'd felt that way, limiting her routes to work and home.

And blissfully sniffing the evening air, she closed her eyes and listened to the noise of the city. Car signals, water splashing, laughter of couples and companies… The city lived. And she wanted to live and be a part of it, too. And opening her eyes again, she struggled to look at the world with a new look. Be more open, more receptive, and more fun. 

But the magic of the city did not last long. To her right and left, she was surrounded by couples in love. Everyone in the neighborhood seemed to be together and happy at this hour. She was the only one standing alone on the sidewalk. Who is she kidding? You can't force yourself to be happy if you don't feel it! And the realization made her feel insecure again. 

Someday she would have to force herself to meet someone. But where do they meet now? Where do normal guys live who aren't fixated on themselves and their football team? Where do normal guys live who give her their time and appreciate her time, intelligence and desires? And will it be interesting to anyone at all? One day she would think about it, but not now. Now she will give herself the pleasure of looking at the city with lights from a bird's eye view!

She was about to take a step into the crowd and glanced at the passers-by, gauging their speed to get closer to the entrance to the attraction, when a male figure caught her eye. He was also alone and stood out from the crowd. Jeans, plaid shirt, leather jacket, fashionable stubble. And dark glasses. It was strange that at this hour a stranger was walking through the city at night wearing sunglasses. "Major" Charlotte thought disapprovingly. "He obviously came here for a meal and thinks he looks cool." At that moment, a car pulled away behind her, its xenon headlights shining brightly, and the stranger bent over, clutching his head a step away from her and making painful noises. 

Without thinking twice and without any ulterior motive, but only to help, Charlotte ran up to him and asked solicitously:

"Sir, are you all right?"

"Yes, thank you" he gasped, instinctively clutching at it to stay on his feet. Eyes were dark and temples ached. "Damn headlights" And turning his face to her, he said confidentially. "Never plan a vision surgery and a meeting with friends on the same day"

And he caught her, but not successfully – now his hand was on her bust. Charlotte recoiled, and the stranger raised his hands in alarm.

"I beg your pardon! I didn't want. Believe me, I'm not some kind of maniac, but I'm just still getting used to the brightness and contrast and at the moment I feel like a bat. I'm supposed to meet some friends here. Please walk me to the car"

It didn't sound convincing. And very manic. 

"I'm not sure," Charlotte began.

"Please," he said, sounding desperate. "We just need to find a black Mercedes parked around here. Do you see him?"

Charlotte looked around. A little further to the left was a row of black Mercedes cars. She shook her head.

"I see at least 10 of them here. The car number would help more."

"Number?" The stranger hesitantly drawled and lowered his shoulders. But then, as if struck by an idea, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, unlocked it with his fingerprint, and handed it to her. "Could you please dial the number from the call book? Look for Babbers or Crowe, they should be at the top of the list. I still see only the shining stars."

Hesitantly, she took the phone, noting that he didn't have a ring on his finger, and flipped through the contact list. Arthur, Diana, 3 numbers without a name. And all this in the last half hour! Busy guy. A certain Babbers was indeed on the list of recent calls. And she pressed the call button and handed the phone to the guy.

"Babbers," he breathed into the phone. "I'm so glad to hear from you. I have a problem. I was blinded by the headlights, and I'm a little helpless. Where are you? How do we find you?"

"We?" thought Charlotte. The guy was sure that she would lead him to the Mercedes. God, what if it's a trap? He's like a maniac who lures gullible girls like her by pretending to be helpless. She chewed on her lower lip. 

"Get out of the car. What are you wearing? Ha, I'm not interested in such details. Just get out of the car and wave." And taking the phone away from his ear, the stranger asked, " Do you see a guy in a blue sweater waving his hand?"

"Yes," she said shortly.

"Great! Stay there, we'll be right there" He put the phone back in his pocket with his right hand, and with his left he naturally slid down her elbow to the palm of her hand and took Charlotte's hand. "Take me there, please!"

A new Mercedes was parked 200 meters away and a guy in a blue sweater was already waiting for them at the door, and a lanky, curly-haired and fairly tipsy guy also leaned out of the front passenger door.

"Sidney! I see you're not alone! Introduce us to your girlfriend!"

"I don't…"

"Oh, forgive me, my savior. I don't even know your name! My name is Sidney, and yours?"

"Charlotte" She was surprised to see a man in a chauffeur's uniform sitting in the driver's seat. 

"Thank you, Miss, for delivering my friend safely." The guy in the blue sweater bowed with dignity. 

"Em… You are welcome." She wanted to get away. "I wish you a pleasant evening. I have to go." And she took a couple of steps back, stepping back as Sidney, who was still holding her hand, pulled her to him, hugged her warmly, and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you, Charlotte! I'm really very grateful and I won't forget your kindness."

And then his friend almost pushed him into the car. He bowed again to Charlotte and followed him into the backseat. 

The car pulled away, and Charlotte still stood transfixed, staring after it. 

Sidney… It had been a long time since anyone had held her in a man's warm embrace. She sighed and walked toward the house. The London Eye will have to wait. For today, she has enough impressions. But stop! Why didn't she ask for his phone number?

Meanwhile, the guys were torturing red-eyed Sidney, who was trying to put the doctor's prescribed drops in his eyes, in much the same way.

"How long have you been dating?" Crow asked inquisitively from the front seat. 

"We're not dating! I saw her for the first time in my life. Yes, and saw-loudly said. After those terrible headlights, I can only make out silhouettes. Why did I even agree to go with you today? I can't drink anyway…"

"She's all right. Sweet, well-mannered, and apparently smart" Babbers smiled.

"Did you even think to take her phone?" do not let Crowe. 

"Nooooo," and Sydney clutched his head again. "I'm a fool, guys. Holding her hand and hugging her was extremely pleasant, " a resigned sigh spread through the salon. "Maybe we can still go back?"

"Sorry, man. It's too late. She's obviously already gone. And there is no U-turn nearby."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, chapter number 2 is ready. If you forget about what was in the beginning - read chapter number one again)

In a special mood and under the impression of a meeting with a certain "Sidney", Charlotte watched romantic comedies and favorite cartoons about princesses all weekend. "Beauty and the Beast" and "Anastasia" were always her favorites, and this weekend she was fluttering around the room, cleaning up to the sound of a waltz.

The tune of "Once Upon a December" stuck in her brain for a long time. Charlotte was humming the tune over and over again with particular ease, and was circling the room with her eyes closed, when she suddenly felt a sharp pain: her little toe hit the leg of the sofa. It was painful. It was a shame. All the romance was gone and tears were falling from her eyes.

"You're clumsy, Charlotte! You will never learn to dance the Viennese waltz!" Again and again, she reproached herself, returning to reality, but somewhere deep inside her, a little girl rose up, who wanted to stamp her foot and say "No, I can!".

She remembered herself like this – a little girl in a tutu. Like most girls in childhood, she raved about ballet and enjoyed learning this art together with her younger sister. She had good data, an excellent eversion, an amazing stretch and enough artistry to consistently occupy a place in concert performances. But in one summer, she grew a lot and there came a time when her height violated the overall harmony of the drawing, conceived by the choreographer, and she was not allowed to go on stage anymore. After attending the dance class for about six months, Charlotte finally accepted, and at the age of 10, she said goodbye to dancing.

Now, remembering her former hobby, she rubbed her bruised finger with a sad smile. How would her fate have turned out if she had still persevered and linked her life with dancing? Would she have become a prima ballerina, or would she have been eclipsed by more flexible, more tenacious, more technical ballerinas? What would she choose? Classical or modern ballet? Would she have made a good teacher or not? So many unanswered questions! But there is nothing to regret!

She lifted her head high, squared her shoulders, smiled, and went out into the street. No need to sit at home and feel sorry for herself on the weekend!

The day, meanwhile, was sunny, and she was happy to walk to the local farmers ' market, which was much further away from her usual habitat. After packing her canvas bag with herbs, vegetables, local fruits, and a chic cheese, Charlotte happily wandered between the shopping aisles in search of cozy trinkets for the house.

Street musicians were playing in the market square, and she walked up to them, fascinated, listening to the familiar popular tune from "Game of Thrones" in the treatment. And again - the Viennese waltz! She grinned, grimaced a little, and ducked into a nearby flower shop, where she picked out an inspiring bouquet for the house and a small pot of neat cactus, just as she had planned.

A slight sense of finality filled her with a good mood for the rest of the weekend. And sitting on the sofa in the evening with a book, she admired the delicate bouquet of flowers. Well, let her buy it for herself, and not get it as a gift from a mysterious admirer! The bouquet pleased her, and this is the most important thing! The changes, which she craved, had already begun.

On Monday, she brought a cactus to work and lovingly marked her desk with a new companion. This prickly appendage surprisingly gave her a sense of joy and comfort. And with a friendly glance at him, Charlotte set to work.

The lunch break was cramped and fussy. Colleagues in the dining area were loudly discussing their weekends and love affairs. Charlotte just shrugged, quickly swallowed her lunch, and returned to her desk, and only there, in the silence, she did smile dreamily – she, too, had something to remember. The mysterious Sidney. Too bad she wouldn't see him again.

"Oh, Charlotte, I see you didn't waste any time over the weekend. Do you have a new friend? What's his name?" Behind her, Clara's voice startled Charlotte. How the hell could Clara know about her weekend adventures?

"Clara, it doesn't matter!" And she spun around in the swivel chair to face her, looking at the blonde with a puzzled expression.

"No, it's important. Without a name and love, it can wither away!" And the blonde reached across the table to Charlotte's cactus. "He's charming! You must choose a name for him!"  
Charlotte, realizing that Clara was talking about the plant, exhaled.

"What about John or Mark?" Clara asked, sitting half-sideways on the edge of the table.

"Clara, I won't call the cactus by the names of my colleagues!" - And Charlotte smiled tightly, and then taking the mini-pot in her hands and lovingly touching the soft needles, she continued, "My cactus is unique. He's the only one. This kid is so mysterious! Just think, it makes its own way to the surface and is able to live without water, extracting moisture from the air. No, it should not be the most popular name, so that John or Mark will not try to answer my questions when I address this baby"

"Are you going to talk to a cactus?" Clara's eyebrows rose. "Listen, Heywood, it's time you met the guy. You're starting to go crazy. Do you want me to introduce you?"

"Clara, I appreciate your efforts, but this isn't for me. I still remember with a shudder our last trip to the pub. My head was buzzing until the middle of next week! No, I prefer to date guys who can remember my name at least on the day I meet them"

Clara looked thoughtfully at the ceiling and said cryptically:

"You know, there are surprisingly some people I know who do. I can pick up a teetotaler for you, too"

"Clara, I'm sure I can manage on my own!" Charlotte lowered her eyes in embarrassment and touched the keyboard, indicating that she was ready to go back to work.

"I'm sure you'll think of something" Clara whispered, winking and patting her friend on the shoulder, then tugging down her skirt and clicking her ten-centimeter heels on the tiled floor.

At that moment, one of the colleagues in the common room shouted over the partition:

"Hey, who's working on the Denham project? What time zone should I filter Australia by in the tables?"

"Sydney!" someone also answered him through the partition.

"Thank you!"

Clara suddenly turned on her heel and went back to Charlotte.

"I have an idea! Let's call him Sidney!" She was already writing the name on the sticker, and Charlotte noticed with a blush that the name for the cactus was written with an "I".   
"Just as unique, prickly, and mysterious. I'll introduce you to him sometime if I find out he's back in town" And with a leering smile, Clara turned and walked back to her desk, leaving Charlotte in complete disbelief.

So, her cactus suddenly got the name of Friday's beau. Now she will definitely never forget about him! And when she got to work, she kept casting incredulous glances at the cactus for a while, as if it was encroaching on her privacy.

___

When the workday was over and the colleagues began to leave, Charlotte moved her chair away from the desk. She promised herself a change, which means it's time to leave work on time. If she didn't do it now, there was a great risk that she would stick her nose into another spreadsheet and stay up late again. Enough! She gently touched Sidney's prickles and left the office. 

It was surprisingly light outside, and dusk was still falling – September had just begun. She didn't want to take the subway, so she decided to walk. She walked along the pavements of the usual road, but then turned into the next street – you need to expand the boundaries and choose new routes. About a 15-minute walk away, she was already admiring the facades of mansions and chic buildings. A great quiet area, a peaceful atmosphere, aesthetic appeal and some natural aristocracy. All this was felt in the neighborhood. 

It was getting dark. The streetlights came on. Charlotte was looking around in fascination, taking in the bizarre decor of the buildings in their surprisingly pleasant light, when she tripped, catching her heel on a stone pavement, but did not fall, gently caught by someone's helpful hand.

"Are you all right, Miss?" asked a concerned, pleasant voice.

"Oh, yes, thank you. I just tripped. I apologize. And I'm grateful for your help" And she looked up uncertainly at her rescuer.

A solid, middle-aged man with gray hair at the temples, kind, warm eyes, and comfortable hands was already putting her in her place, and she felt quite confident on her feet. There was something aristocratic about him, almost theatrical, as if he had been trained for years, as if he were an actor in old Hollywood or had just stepped out of a James Bond movie. He was dressed accordingly! He wore a tux and patent leather boots, and a bow tie was neatly tied around his neck. Do such people still exist?

Charlotte looked around shyly and noticed that the stranger wasn't the only man in a tuxedo. Several men, also dressed, were standing on the steps leading up to the lighted door. The windows were open, and the lights and live music of a foxtrot band were streaming out. It was like walking into a fairy tale. 

Seeing her confusion and obvious interest in what was happening the man next to her asked a logical question:

"Do you like dancing?"

"I... Oh, I'm sorry. I'm too curious! This one is so unusual, it's like I'm in the last century. Is there some kind of themed event here?"

"Not really. We're having an open day. This is a dance studio where they teach ballroom dancing. Would you like to come in?"

"Oh, thank you. But I'm not dressed for this format. I'm sorry. I have to go" Charlotte smoothed her trousers in embarrassment. 

"It's all right. Don't pay any attention. For me and other teachers, it's almost a uniform" He ran a hand along his body, as if removing an invisible layer from himself. "We are used to living like this and have grown together with a tuxedo or tailcoat. But this does not mean that we impose our own standards on others. On the contrary, we always welcome new faces. In our digital age, when everyone is always rushing somewhere and texting with each other even sitting in the same room, places like this can become a safe haven where you can still feel like a person" His voice was muffled, as if he were confiding a terrible secret to Charlotte, causing her to chuckle with delight. 

"Can I give you a tour of the halls? And then you will decide whether to stay or not?" He gave her a dazzling smile and offered her his arm. Charlotte could not refuse such a gallant invitation, and after a moment's reflection, she accepted the invitation of the venerable gentleman. 

"How can I address you?"

"Simon. Simon Auster. What is your name, charming lady?"

"Charlotte Heywood"

"Very pleased to meet you"

And Simon led Charlotte through the dance halls and the inner rooms. The school had large comfortable women's and men's changing rooms, showers, a bar where you could drink coffee, tea, make smoothies, protein shakes, and much more. But the most important thing was the cozy dance halls. There were 4 of them – one large one, where the main party was currently taking place, and 3 small halls for individual classes. 

Going deeper into one of the halls, Charlotte was thrilled to find a ballet barre fixed along the mirrored wall and feeling an impulse, she gently touched the shaft. Only yesterday she was thinking about her forgotten hobbies and now they have caught up with her. 

For the rest of the evening, she enjoyed the live music and watched the dancing couples curiously. It was so delicious and natural that she wanted to be a part of this world in an extraordinary way. And she signed up for the dance lessons.

Well, now 3 days a week she will have an excuse to leave work on time for the sake of dancing. Not bad for a start. She was proud of herself for taking the first step toward change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your attention! Do you think the name of the Charlotte's cactus is correct, or is it not a good name for it? And would you agree to dance lessons if you happened to be at an open day at a dance school?


	3. Chapter 3

Three months passed without Charlotte noticing. Starting with three evening group classes a week, Charlotte quickly mastered each entry-level dance, outgrew the beginner group, and began taking individual lessons. She wanted to go forward with great strides and it seemed that this was the only way she could catch up, get closer to her childhood dream and prove to herself that she was capable of a lot. 

The club has trained not only professional athletes since childhood, but also worked on the Pro-Am system. Anyone, regardless of physical data, height, age and build, could try himself in dancing, where the partner was a professional teacher. 

Unlike professional sports ballroom dancing, the newcomer to Pro-Am grew quite quickly. First, because he is paired with a professional who, with proper patience and skills, can explain the features of figures and counting in music, and secondly, because beginners come to dance as adults and can consciously assimilate information. And the third – they dance at will, and not because of the desire of parents to see children as athletes in dancing. 

Although of course such a system had its drawbacks – many people got used to their partner-teacher and did not react at all to the guidance of other men. There were also dramas in the club, when single ladies came to lessons no longer for the sake of dancing, but for the attention of male teachers, replacing the concept of sincere concern for the achievements of the student with the illusion of personal relationships. 

Charlotte realized this disadvantage literally in the first month, when she met a sobbing woman in the locker room, whom a friend tried to calm down. The tears were caused by the departure of one of the handsome teachers from the club, and it seems that many hearts were broken that day. 

And so, when Charlotte grew up with individual lessons, her choice fell on Simon. He was safe in the romantic sense, had invaluable teaching experience and, as it turned out, was the founder of the club, which means that he was an ideological inspirer and a connoisseur of the results of student development. She sought to further protect herself from personal dramas, even if she visited the studio solely for the sake of dancing. 

And the stately teacher, with gray hair at the temples, a kind smile and kind eyes, always neat and friendly, wrapped Charlotte in true care so that she felt like a lady every lesson. Imperceptibly, this feeling was transferred to her real life outside of the dance class. She changed her wardrobe to a more feminine one, stopped fussing and looked at the world with a smile and wide eyes. Even Clara noticed the change in her and approved, even though she still insisted on inviting her to the bar with her friends every Friday. 

In addition to the lessons, it was nice to talk to Simon just like that during the break in the hall. He has brought up no generation of active dancers, he has repeatedly been a world Champion in ballroom dancing, had a judge's category in this sport, but recently he has not spent much time on this part. He was genuinely concerned about the success of the school's students, not just because it was profitable for his business, but because he was struggling to maintain an interest in this beautiful but challenging sport in the digital age. And to each new generation, he invariably told not only about the music, the steps, the interaction in a couple, the meaning of each dance, but also talked about the culture of invitation to dance, general etiquette, dress code and many other things that are gradually slipping away from the modern world.

On the walls of the hall and corridor were many photographs of Simon and his students, captured in happy triumphant moments. There were also numerous medals and cups on the shelves. He was often visited by his students, now scattered around the world, and often begged to be one of the judges or a partner in another "Dancing with the Stars" project. Simon Auster was famous in his own world, but Charlotte knew nothing about him until she met him. 

Yet that wasn't why Charlotte valued Simon. He was a really great coach and was able to motivate her to achieve the goal, knowing exactly when to raise the bar and when not to push. And each time, at the end of the class, she couldn't get that logical sense of completion that made her come to class again and again and crave more. 

They have already sorted out the rather difficult variations in the waltz and in the tango for a beginner, and last week they moved on to the long-awaited Viennese waltz. There was no limit to Charlotte's happiness. Her dream of learning to dance the Viennese waltz was coming true. 

The Viennese waltz is a fairly simple dance in steps, but with features in the technique of execution. The steps should be laid on the parquet floor below, without jumps and sharp ascents, which sometimes can not be avoided by experienced dancers. The legs should be soft and the knees do not straighten to the end, due to which the movement becomes smooth and cushioned. 

But it's one thing to know the steps, another thing to dance. Especially in close contact with a partner, even with Simon. Charlotte was very much afraid of making a mistake in her feet and bumping her knee with Simon, because the teacher's venerable age and cultural value should not be affected by her clumsiness.

They had already completed 3 laps, alternating right and left turns on the long side of the dance line, when a stranger appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the doorway, crossed his arms, and watched the twirling pair intently. 

The man kept a close eye on Charlotte's feet and saw that she was walking quite cleanly to the beat of the music. When the music ended, he gave a few loud claps as a round of applause. 

Simon turned around.

"My boy! You're back!" And hastened to embrace the stranger warmly. "I'm so glad to see you!"

Charlotte looked at the newcomer, puzzled. Dressed all in black. Perfectly fitting trousers of the right length. Black dance shoes. A thin cashmere sweater with a high neck, but the sleeves are pulled up at three-quarters, revealing an expensive watch. 

Clean-shaven. With chiseled features. He looked vaguely familiar, but where and when could she have seen him? He was clearly out of her league. More like a celebrity than a guy from the next street. Maybe he's a model, and she's seen him in a magazine or on billboards? In her dreams? "Oh, come on, Charlotte! What can you possibly have in common with this man?"

"Yes, but I won't be long. I'm in London for about a month, and I'm going back to New York after the New year." His dark eyes darted from Coach to Charlotte, as if apologizing for interrupting their lesson. "Actually, I wanted to take a couple of lessons to get back in shape. In December, Tom throws a Christmas ball. I'm required to be present. So I need to be sure that I still remember something and can lead… After all, I haven't danced in almost 10 years"

"I'm sure you'll catch up quickly" Simon began, but the stranger didn't seem to be listening. He enveloped himself deeper by the shoulders and with a sigh lowered his head to the left. 

"Eliza will be there..." and he glanced at the coach. 

"Oh... I see." Then of course I'm at your service. And this young lady, too. Let me introduce you to Charlotte Haywood, a young dancing prodigy. She's only in her first year, but her commitment, enthusiasm, and amazing performance have made her my best student. She can safely dance in a group of those who have been practicing for more than 3 years. And I think she will be a wonderful partner for you in this business of yours. You can go back to training, and Charlotte can get another independent look at ballroom dancing from a professional"

"Charlotte, let me introduce you to Sidney Parker. Sidney is a former professional dancer and my pride. He won several international tournaments, including 10 dances"

Charlotte stared at the stranger in disbelief and fear. Did Simon want to pair her with him? She would faint at once! Or it will stick so much that it won't want to let it go. Oh, God.

"Simon, I..." it was obvious that the man wasn't happy about the offer either. Everything about him gave away a rather wayward person who knew his own worth and was not ready to compromise. And only Simon seemed to have a strange power over him. Otherwise, the stranger was sharp and prickly, just like the cactus with the same name. What an interesting coincidence!

"Look, this is your best chance! You don't want to train with me, do you?" Simon's eyebrows twitched in amusement.

"Of course not!" The stranger's hands stopped closing, and he relaxed them at his sides and smiled artificially. "What are you dancing? Viennese waltz?" He crept toward Charlotte, deeper into the room, already thinking of a plan to get rid of her. In the Viennese waltz, beginners usually cut off at speed, so he just needs to spin this girl around, and he will be free for really valuable lessons with Simon. 

As soon as the first sounds of the music began, he shifted his weight to his right leg, two steps away from Charlotte, stretched up and raised his arms to the starting position and extended his left hand towards her. She understood him intuitively and took a step forward. Putting her hand into his and making contact in his ribs, she placed her left hand on his bicep as his left hand slid down her back. After the preparatory step, Sidney went into a series of right turns and circled Charlotte for quite a long time, but she did not give up, standing firmly on her feet and still holding the frame perfectly. 

Then, after two changes, he took a left turn and things got worse. At almost every turn, she fell out of the pair and again and again crashed her ribs into his iron ABS. It was awkward and uncomfortable. A grin played on his lips, but not for long. Simon's booming voice urged him on:

"What are you doing, Parker? Hold the frame. Hold the center. Keep the rhythm"

And Sidney, with an obvious smile, pulled Charlotte closer as he walked, pressed her closer, and tightened the frame in his hands. And everything immediately fell into place – Charlotte stopped falling out of the pair and now whirled with him in time with the same rhythm and gradually getting used to the size of his steps. They finished the song quite cleanly, and a surprisingly pleased Sidney theatrically spun his partner around for a graceful bow. 

"What did I tell you, Sidney? She is gold! I think you two should stay for practice today. Today is just the European program"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, the adventure continues. And our couple strikes a spark on the parquet floor 😂

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your time with this story.  
> I won't bother you for long, but I will create a couple more ambiguous and uncomfortable situations for Sidney and Charlotte 😉

Practice that first night went well. The eight couples split into two sets, so as not to interfere with the other couples on the floor, and each set danced two tunes of waltz, tango, Viennese waltz, foxtrot and quickstep. 

Simon instructed Sidney in great detail about what dance figures Charlotte knew, and he tried his best to stick to them, but was defeated. There was something about this girl that gave him the feeling that she was capable of more. So he drew her closer and inevitably came out on the figures of a more complex level. There was something magical about this moment. He felt the euphoria of being back in the dance hall, and he was completely lost in the music. And in the soul, the young young man who was burning with dancing and was going to connect his life with them woke up again. He once again lived with the delight and impressions of this freedom, creativity, self-expression and native element. And the frightened, uncertain look in Charlotte's eyes only fueled his desire to experiment. 

An hour later, the practice ended and the couples rewarded each other with applause. Still clapping, Sidney leaned close to Charlotte's ear and whispered, " You're doing great!" A blush instantly covered her cheeks. She didn't dare look up at him, thrilled to have received such praise from someone so skilled in dancing. And his praise was all the more valuable because he knew nothing about her, did not deal with her, and was clearly impartial. 

As if responding to her thoughts, Simon came up to them and gave them a fatherly hug, congratulating them on their difficult ordeal. 

"Charlotte, my girl, you're doing great! You did it! I didn't doubt it" And turning to Sidney for a hug, he grinned and said "But you, Sidney Parker, have completely forgotten all the basics and names of the pieces, since you drove forward and inserted figures of a different level into the bundles. Well, we'll fix it. And you will pair up with this young lady in the group classes. So, write in your schedule of classes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. We start at 7. Don't be late"

"Oh, I doubt I should..." Sidney began, but Simon put a finger to his lips, cutting him off.

"Shhh... is for the Trainer to know Sidney."

Not wanting to be a witness to personal male conversations, Charlotte said goodbye and left the hall, not knowing that her slender figure was followed by a confused look of brown eyes. 

When Charlotte changed and left the club, most of the students had already left and the receptionist was yawning at the counter. But there was music playing in the back room, and the sound of friendly male laughter and Simon's count of "One, twoooo, three! One, twoooo, three ... " and in the wake of his count, a dark silhouette moved across the parquet floor with long, gliding steps. It was a fascinating sight, but Charlotte knew it was not for her eyes and left the club in a state of confusion. 

Once home, she brewed chamomile tea for the night and eagerly opened her laptop. Entering "Sidney Parker" in the search bar, she clicked on search and got a lot of pages of search results. After specifying the query to "Sidney Parker ballroom dancing", she again received a lot of results, including several links to YouTube. And timidly looking back at the door, as if the special forces could break in and forbid her to do it,she clicked on the video clip. 

It was a fairly old video, with a hissing sound and a blurry picture, but Charlotte couldn't take her eyes off it. The image of Sidney in the group video from the tournament was eye-catching. An elegant couple performed the rumba. Latin. His lithe body had a life of its own, and it seemed to obey the sounds of the music like a cobra before a snake charmer. Despite the fact that Charlotte had only known Sidney for a couple of hours, she was not used to seeing him in this way. But there was also something steely and masculine about him, like a rod to rely on. And Charlotte rewound and watched the video over and over again before moving on to watching the couple dance in its entirety and to evaluating his partner in particular. 

His blonde partner was very technical. A clear approach, no unnecessary energy-consuming movements, a radiant smile on his face and a feverish gleam in his eyes. Against her background, Sidney looked more impulsive, flexible and lively. But their dance told a beautiful story of love, not harmonious, but passionate and revealing. 

After watching a few more videos, Charlotte watched the development of the relationship in the couple. Over time, Sidney became more reserved, masculine, and technical. The video changed the choreography, costumes, and images of the couple, but the dance invariably ended with his inspired smile and relief at the end of playing a certain role.  
Charlotte watched video after video, when suddenly the next video in the selection was already without Sidney. Eliza and a new partner. And there were only 3 months between the release dates of the tournament videos. What could have happened? Why did such a successful couple break up? The thought was bothering Charlotte as she glanced at her watch and closed the lid of her laptop – it was already 2am. 

And as she drifted off to sleep, she kept thinking about Sidney Parker. Would she see him again? It was too good to be true. But deep down, she would have given a lot to have someone look at her the way Sydney Parker looked at his partner in a far-off old dance video.

___

For two days, Charlotte tried not to think about Sidney, but to no avail. Whenever she had a moment to spare, the cute, neat cactus with "Sidney" written on the pot stirred her soul, and she wondered again if he would still come to the group lesson or not. 

When Wednesday night came, she nervously packed up her things and went timidly to the club, having internal conversations with herself and telling herself to be brave. It doesn't matter if he's there or not! After all, she goes to the club for dancing! Calm down, Charlotte, and have fun. 

Still, she was disappointed when the class started and he wasn't there. Of course, what was she hoping for? She sighed, smiled, and chose to be philosophical about what was happening, carefully repeating the warm-up movements after the teacher. 

The group was desperately working on an ankle when the door to the dance class opened slightly and Sidney slid in. He was obviously in a hurry and had only changed his shoes into dancing shoes, leaving him in office trousers and a white shirt with a narrow silk tie hanging in the center. He stood next to Charlotte in the back row and began his warm-up exercises with a straight face, trying not to draw attention to himself. But eight pairs of female eyes were already glaring at him through the mirror, or shamelessly turning their heads, trying to get a better look at the newcomer. Charlotte saw the way he clenched his jaw. 

When the warm-up session was over and Simon had gone to the bar to change the music, Sidney approached Charlotte and spoke:

"Hi! I'm sorry I'm late. The meeting dragged on. I'm sorry" he said apologetically. "Did I miss a lot?"

"Not at all. Just a warm-up session"

"All right," he nodded, and Simon was already drawing attention to himself and was pleased to introduce his student to the class. Sidney bowed sheepishly to the class, and Charlotte caught a few envious female glances. 

After the presentation ceremony, Simon moved on to the topic of the lesson and showed several figures in both the female variation and the male part. And then the class broke up in pairs and started working out. Sidney took Charlotte's hand and guided her through the steps Simon had indicated without a single mistake the first time. 

When the class returned to the second dance, the rumba, after the break, Sidney had already removed his tie and unbuttoned his collar. Something in his image softened immediately. And Charlotte, remembering the YouTube video, now felt uncomfortable with it. 

"Rumba is a dance of love and passion, where the smoothness of feline grace is replaced with Italian passions and suspicion of treason" Simon recited. "You must strike a spark on the parquet floor, tell a love story. Lure your partner into a trap, push him to the limit, and ... change your mind" And Simon led his assistant through the basic step, brought her into the fan position, and then sent her to alemana on the way out. 

Once again, Sidney and Charlotte worked together quickly, and Simon approached them and gave them a more difficult task. He explained to Sidney the order of the figures in the complicated scheme and patted him on the shoulder again:

"You must strike a spark on the parquet"

Sidney held out his hand to Charlotte, and she put her hand in his, and at the moment of skin contact, a bolt of static electricity ran between them. They released a laugh, grabbing the attention of Simon.

"What happened?"

"We've struck a spark. Literally." he answered over his shoulder, still laughing. And then he held out his hand to Charlotte again and signaled with a look not to be afraid. 

For the rest of the class, they practiced their bunch in different interpretations – Sidney wanted to make sure that Charlotte didn't just memorize the bunch, but that she understood the nuances of his conduct and he changed his direction abruptly again and again. Charlotte followed his instructions, trying not to make mistakes, because if she made a mistake, he quickly caught her, squeezing her in his arms. Such a natural help on his part, but such a dangerous closeness for her, because her bastions after watching videos on the Internet were already falling, and the man standing next to her did not contribute to the restoration of borders in any way. 

Thus, during the one-hour session, while the rest of the group practiced the basic half-pace combination, Sydney and Charlotte made significant progress in practicing the lead, in linking complex pieces, and in trusting each other. And then, in the evening, at home, Charlotte lay dreamily on the bed, closed her eyes, and remembered with pleasure his supporting hands on her back, the wonderful smell and the deep voice that began to count the rhythm of the melody as soon as it began to get confused and tense. He was the perfect partner. In dancing. She couldn't have asked for more.

___

On Friday, remembering his late mistake, Sidney went straight to the club after the evening work meeting – it was not advisable to waste time on a trip home to change. But it turned out that the shower in the men's locker room wasn't working that night. It was early, none of the students were there yet, and Simon let him into the women's room.  
An unsuspecting Charlotte entered, pulled off her boots, opened a locker, and began to undo the buttons on her blouse, when the phone rang in one of the lockers, and she jumped in surprise. 

"Apparently someone forgot," she thought, " I'll have to take it to the reception." 

She continued to undo the buttons. She was undoing the last one when the door to the shower suddenly opened and a half-naked, wet Sшdney Parker came out, covered only by a white towel. Charlotte was speechless. But Sшdney didn't seem to mind the situation at all. He gave her a casual wave and pulled the ringing phone out of his locker. 

The conversation was brief. He seemed to be refusing the party, saying he was busy. He teasingly chatted with the man on the other end, calling him dude, and wished him a great time, still pacing back and forth in his teasing towel. And when he finished, he gave her a dazzling smile.

"Hello!" he said, his voice rising. "I apologize for the intrusion. There's a problem with the shower in our locker room, and Simon sent me here" He looked at her shyly, surreptitiously assessing the underwear peeking out of her open blouse. 

Following his gaze, Charlotte immediately turned around. 

"Hi," she managed to say.

There was a long pause. He waited a moment, then ducked his head in embarrassment and rubbed the back of his head as he disappeared through the shower door. 

As soon as the door closed behind him, Charlotte finally exhaled:

"Oh, my God! Now I understand why it was painful to beat against his abs!"

But the door opened again, and Sidney went to the locker, exchanged the phone for a pile of clothes, and disappeared through the door again. After about 5 minutes, he came out fully dressed-all that remained was to pull on his dancing shoes. 

The group lesson was productive. The only thing that upset Sidney was her unwillingness to look him in the eye. He felt a little left out, though he didn't fully understand why. Why does he feel this way? And why does he feel it anyway?

They said their goodbyes at the entrance to the club, and Sidney followed Charlotte's retreating figure sadly before tossing his duffel bag into the car. Wearily, he put his hands on the steering wheel, but he didn't start the engine. Reaching for the phone, he dialed Babington and found out where his friends were today, decided to leave the car in the parking lot and walk down to the bar-he had something to discuss and ask for advice.

He had walked three blocks when a freezing December rain caught up with him. He turned up his collar and sped up, assessing the terrain and realizing that it was still a long way to the bar. And so I ran into the nearest coffee shop, where you can drink coffee and wait out the rain. And to his surprise, right at the entrance, he ran into a drenched Charlotte.  
He stared at her worried face in silence. I wanted to help and calm her down. He really wasn't stalking her. He opened his mouth to say something when she sneezed. 

"You need to change, or you'll get sick." And he began to take off his surprisingly dry coat.

Charlotte stopped him with a gesture and picked up her duffel bag.

"Fortunately, I have something with me"

"I'll get a table. You go get changed" He said it as if she had no choice. 

And she was gone. I pulled on a leotard and jeans. Socks had to be removed, and a thin trickle of water spilled out of her shoes. 

When he saw her, he got up from the table, waved to her, and helped her to the next chair. Now she was sitting half-turned toward him, and the dance bodysuit hugged her waist tightly, revealing her back quite a bit. Instinctively, he put his hand on the back of her chair. The neckline beckoned. I wanted to touch her. But the door opened and a fresh breeze made her shiver. He picked up his scarf and carefully draped it over her shoulders. 

The coffee was quickly brought to them, and as he unfolded the mug so that he could grasp it comfortably on the right side, Sidney looked at her and asked a simple question.

"So, Charlotte. How long have you been dancing?"

"3 months," she said simply, warming her hands on the mug. 

"3 months? You have achieved amazing results!"

"Well, like all the girls in danced as a child. So it was nice to get back to dancing in my own way. So it was a miracle to meet Simon. How long have you known him?"

"Oh, a very long time. In fact, almost 20 years. He was my coach when I was dancing professionally. Or rather, I tried to..." he paused sadly. 

"Why did you give up dancing?" Charlotte asked timidly. 

"Oh, it was the dancing that left me. Trauma." he said simply. He didn't want to talk about how he injured his knee in training and was suspended for 3 months. And as his partner and fiancee, desperate to participate in the world tournament, did not wait and found a replacement for him. First in dance, and then in personal life. It was really painful. Sidney gave up dancing. And Simon lost his best dancer. 

"Does your boyfriend dance too?" he asked absently, secretly curious to know if she had a boyfriend. 

"No," she chuckled. "Why do you ask?"

"No, not dancing?" Or no, no boyfriend?" Sidney mischievously steered the conversation in the right direction.

"No, no boyfriend. Why do you ask?"

"Husband, then?" – do not let Sidney.

"No! Why are you asking me all these questions?" She said indignantly, but he could see that she was more uncomfortable than really angry. 

"Don't get me wrong, I'm curious. You're a bit different from the pro-am club contingent. These are mostly older women who are tired of being alone, and for whom this is really a club of interest. They go there, meet new people, and spark an interest in life. That's good, but it's not about dancing. So I was surprised to meet someone in the club who comes there for dancing."

"I know what you mean," Charlotte said. "But you're wrong. Simon's club does have a lot of women who come there to dance"

"Well, I've never seen one like it." He stared into her eyes, and she was forced to look away. "You know, after the ... trauma… I tried to work with Simon in other places as a teacher for a while, but I couldn't stand all the stares when you're being hungrily looked at like a piece of meat" - He seemed to withdraw into himself and was surprised that he opened up so much and smiled bitterly. "So I'm a little distrustful of pro-am clubs"

"Maybe it's just you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the way they react to you" - the mug of cooling coffee suddenly became extremely interesting. "Look at you! Like a model off the cover! Yes, you can even… Yes, even the rain is afraid to drip on you! I'm all raw, and you're cheekily dry!"

He laughed heartily. And he answered, changing the subject:

"I just walk fast, and I can get through the raindrops" 

The awkward topic of balls seems to have been forgotten. And they talked sweetly for almost an hour and a half. They would have talked even longer if his phone hadn't rung: his friends at the bar had lost him. And sheepishly ending the phone call, Sidney offered to give her a ride, but she said she would call a taxi. He walked her to her car, and then went to Babington's, knowing that he had more to drink and talk about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think an evening coffee parties can be considered a date between Sidney and Charlotte?


End file.
